


Force Me, Fight Me

by PetrichorPerfume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Crying, Flogging, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Safewords, St. Andrew's Cross, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael forces a difficult, stubborn Lucifer to submit to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Force Me, Fight Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by MorningstarGabriella: If you're taking prompts could you please do a Michael/Lucifer fic with a Dom and Rough Michael forcing Lucifer to submit.

It begins with a note written in Lucifer’s impeccably neat cursive and left on the kitchen table for Michael to find.

 

_Fancy some playtime tonight? – Lucifer_

 

It reads. Michael smiles to himself before setting off to prepare their playroom, quietly and privately grateful not for the first time that he worked from home.

 

The real fun doesn’t start until Lucifer arrives home. Michael’s been hovering somewhere just outside of his Dom headspace since he saw the note, and when Lucifer’s car pulls up in the driveway, something molten shoots through his veins and he falls the rest of the way. His heart starts to pound, his fists clench, and his lips purse, and he has to force himself to be calm as he waits an agonizingly slow 90 seconds for Lucifer to unlock the door, open it, step inside, close the door, and relock it.

 

Lucifer turns around and smiles at his husband before reaching up to work on undoing the knot of his tie. Before he can even tug it off, something dark flashes across Michael’s eyes and Lucifer finds himself being slammed against the door and swept into a vicious kiss.

 

“You’re sure you want this now?” Michael asks when he draws away.

 

“Never surer,” Lucifer replies with a cocky smile that Michael resolves to wipe off his face.

 

And that’s when Michael turns _vicious_ , tearing off Lucifer’s clothes and biting his lips until they bleed and dragging a struggling Lucifer to their playroom. He tosses his lover onto the bed upon arrival, growling when Lucifer tries to sit up and pushing him right back down. “You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re my little cocksucker. You’re _my_ whore, and if you forget that for even one second, know that I will beat it into you without hesitation.” At Lucifer’s silence, he tangles his hand in the other’s hair and pulls _hard_. “Do. You. Understand?”

 

Lucifer hisses at the hair pulling, but manages to smirk anyway. “I don’t know,” he replies perfectly evenly. “You say I belong to you, but where’s the proof?”

 

Releasing Lucifer and stepping back off the bed, Michael laughs. “You will submit to me, Lucifer. You will bend, and you will kneel, and you will break like you always do until you’re a pitiful, sniffling, groveling mess at my feet.” He smiles slightly at the thought, then points to the St. Andrew’s Cross in the corner. “Go stand over there.” When Lucifer doesn’t comply, Michael shrugs. “If you want any hope of coming tonight, you’ll go stand by the cross. If not, continue to disobey. It really doesn’t affect me either way.” He turns around to survey their collection of whips before selecting his favorite cat o’ nine tails.

 

Lucifer watches Michael look over their wall of whips and floggers before wordlessly deciding to obey. He climbs off of the bed and goes to stand by the St. Andrew’s Cross, crossing his arms as he waits.

 

“Lose the attitude,” Michael warns without looking at him, and Lucifer curses how well his brother knows him before letting his arms fall to his sides. Michael approaches the other slowly, letting the whip swing back and forth as he walks. “Your favorite,” he jokes.

 

“Hardly,” Lucifer bites back.

 

“Oh?” Michael asks, pausing half way across the room. “You want me to coddle you and pick one that won’t hurt so much? You want me to go back and pick one with one tail? Is that what my little slave boy wants?”

 

“No,” Lucifer grumbles, not bothering to resist the urge to re-cross his arms. “I can take it.”

 

Michael surges forward and pins Lucifer to the wall, sweeping him into another cruel kiss. “I don’t think you can,” he challenges.

 

“Try me,” Lucifer spits. He frees himself from Michael’s hold and spreads himself out across the St. Andrew’s Cross. “Come on; I don’t have all day.”

 

Michael slaps him for his insolence, causing Lucifer to let out a sharp cry.

 

“Fuck,” Lucifer curses as Michael wraps his wrists and ankles in the cross’s cuffs and steps back to admire his handiwork.

 

“Don’t make me gag you,” Michael warns, and Lucifer wisely decides to be quiet. Michael sets down the whip for a moment to leave both hands free to touch his brother. He starts by reaching down towards the side table for the nipple clamps he’d left there earlier and tightening them around Lucifer’s nipples, much to the other’s dismay. Lucifer _hated_ the nipple clamps, which was why Michael made a point of using them whenever his sub was being particularly stubborn.

 

Michael continues by playing with the clamps, adjusting their settings and lazily flicking them as well as occasionally pulling at them. He only stops when Lucifer’s eyes start to tear at the pain of the stimulation, not wanting his sub to cry just yet.

 

Running his hands along Lucifer’s abdomen, Michael leans in for another bruising kiss. He savagely thrusts his clothed cock against Lucifer’s bare one, knowing the friction will bring his lover both pain and pleasure. Lucifer can’t contain a whimper at the sensation.

 

Michael’s fingers grasp a handful of Lucifer’s hair and pull hard, revealing the other’s neck to Michael’s still delight. “You wanted proof of who you belong to? You want the world to know that you’re mine, don’t you?”

 

Straining against Michael’s grasp as far as the cuffs will allow, Lucifer chokes out, “Fuck you, I-”

 

“Color!” Michael barks, tugging harder at Lucifer’s hair and drawing another stunted whimper from his lover.

 

Lucifer lets his eyes flutter closed. “Green, oh God, green, Mika- Master, please, I-”

 

“Hush,” Michael scolds gently. “And don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”

 

Lucifer giggles, then gasps as the hand in his hair tightens once more. “Master!”

 

“Beg me,” Michael orders. “Beg me to mark you.”

 

Lucifer’s eyes fly open as Michael backs away, leaving the space around him empty and barren.

 

“I will, of course, still have to punish you for your earlier behavior. I am not going to reward you for your insolence. Now _beg_.”

 

Choosing to remain stubbornly silent, Lucifer tightens his lips.

 

“Look at me,” Michael orders. Lucifer looks away, and Michael picks the whip back up. “You aren’t going to like what comes next if you don’t look at me right this second.”

 

Lucifer brings his eyes up to meet Michael’s, and his Dom sees the spark of defiance still burning in them. Michael takes a deep breath and turns away before spinning around to face Lucifer and bringing the whip down _hard_.

 

Lucifer cants forward and screams, the surprise of the strike tearing the noise from his throat unbidden.

 

“Count.” The whip comes down again and Michael growls at Lucifer’s silence. “You will count whether you like it or not. The question remains whether you’re going to be counting out fifty or one hundred.”

 

“Fifty, Master,” Lucifer says.

 

Michael steps forward and takes Lucifer’s chin in one hand, tilting his head until their faces are inches apart. “Have you forgot your manners? Say please.”

 

“Fine. Please,” Lucifer bites out.

 

Stepping back, Michael shakes his head. “Say it like you mean it.” He brings the whip down again, secretly pleased that Lucifer knows better than to count at this point.

 

“Please,” Lucifer repeats, slightly more pleadingly. “Please, Master.”

 

Michael smiles. “Well, since you asked so nicely. Seventy-five it is.”

 

Lucifer starts to squirm. “You promised!”

 

“I did no such thing,” Michael retorts. “Now count, and if you’re a good boy I might be persuaded to stop early.”

 

Groaning, Lucifer braces himself for the first strike. “One,” he cries out when the whip comes down. “Two!”

 

He’s crying by twenty, and sobbing by forty-three. “Forty-four,” he counts. “Please, Master, please, stop, I’ll – forty-five – be good, I swear, I’ll do anything you want, I – forty-six – promise, I’ll be – forty-seven – so good, I’ll – forty-eight – kneel for you and – forty-nine – obey and I won’t be bad anymore – fifty – please,” he begs.

 

Michael lowers the whip and rolls his shoulders. “You’ll be good for me?”

 

“Yes, yes, I will, I swear, I’ll be good, just please stop, it _hurts,_ ” Lucifer answers.

 

Laughing, Michael answers, “It’s supposed to hurt.”

 

“I can’t take anymore,” Lucifer whispers.

 

“I think you can.” At that, Lucifer bursts into a new round of tears. Michael decides to take pity on him and sets the whip down. “But I won’t make you. See? The whip’s gone. Your punishment is over. As long as you’re good, I won’t have to hurt you again. Funny how that works.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer sobs. “I’ll be good, I will, I swear, I-”

 

Michael leans in for a gentle kiss. “I know you will. Shh, it’s over now, and you’re my good little slave boy, aren’t you?”

 

“I am.” Lucifer tilts his head forward for another kiss, and whimpers when Michael nips at his lips.

 

“I’m going to mark you now,” Michael says, tone of voice making it clear that Lucifer has a choice in the matter.

 

“Yes, Master.” Lucifer tilts his head willingly, giving Michael prime access to his neck. He shivers in anticipation; this is his favorite part of their scenes, when Michael leans in and bites him _hard_ , leaving a mark that’ll last for days and be seen over the collar of his work shirt. Michael draws out the anticipation to its breaking point before leaning forward and biting down on Lucifer’s neck until he tastes blood. Then he laps up the red fluid and draws back, lips tinted and teeth stained. He always lets Lucifer taste himself, so he closes in for another kiss, this one crueler and longer than the last. They only pull apart, gasping, when the need to breathe becomes too great.

 

“Now the world will know you’re mine,” Michael says proudly. He takes a few steps back and makes his way over to their toy box before retrieving a blindfold. He’d forgotten to get one earlier, but it was no trouble to find one in the box that held their dildos, vibrators, nipple clamps, plugs, sounds, blindfolds, gags, and other assorted play items. Holding it up to show Lucifer, he ambles back to the cross. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything too terrible,” he promises.

 

Lucifer whimpers at the assurance and silently allows Michael to tie the blindfold behind his head. He turns left, then right before tilting his head back. Michael starts kissing down his body, starting with his clavicle before making his way down to the place where Lucifer wanted to be touched most, then bypassing it completely and running his hands up and down his lover’s thighs. He draws back, then begins tracing the lash marks he’d left across Lucifer’s chest and stomach. “Hurt?” He asks with a tone of vague disinterest.

 

“Master, please,” Lucifer begs. It does hurt, but that’s not what he’s pleading for; once he stops fighting it, being bound and spread out for his lover’s pleasure gets him hard and ready within moments. All he wants is for Michael to touch him. He’s been waiting for it all day, and he’s growing impatient even though he knows that it’s ultimately up to Michael when or even if he gets any pleasure.

 

Nodding to himself, Michael steps back to inspect Lucifer. The marks his whip left behind would need some salve later, and the bite mark would need to be disinfected, but right now he was more concerned with teasing Lucifer. The other had finally broken, and now Michael could do anything he wanted.

 

Well, not anything, he thinks. It was a familiar routine; Lucifer would struggle, Michael would force him to submit, and then he’d become gentler, softer, and kinder once his lover fell into subspace. It was what Lucifer needed, and who was Michael to deny him?

 

“Master?” Lucifer asks, breaking Michael out of his reverie.

 

“Right here, sweetie,” Michael is quick to answer, laying a gentle hand on his sub’s shoulder.

 

Lucifer visibly relaxes, and Michael smiles. He wraps a hand around Lucifer’s cock, not stroking yet, just holding it in his hand and dangling what his lover wanted most just out of reach.

 

“Want me to touch you, hmm?” Michael asks. “Want me to stroke you and blow you and make you cum? Is that what my slave boy wants?”

 

Lucifer nods. “Yes, please, Master.” He wants nothing more from life at the moment than to be stroked to completion, but he also knows that isn’t going to happen yet, so he isn’t too terribly disappointed when the other pulls away.

 

“Not yet, baby. I’m not gonna let you cum that easy. You’ll have to work for it today.”

 

“I always have to work for it,” Lucifer grumbles.

 

“ _Excuse_ me,” Michael growls. “I think _someone_ wants a few more lashes.”

 

Lucifer shakes his head frantically. “No, Master, I don’t, I swear, please don’t whip me again; I’ll be good.”

 

Sighing, Michael squirts some lube into his hand and starts stroking his lover’s member. “That’s what you told me earlier,” he says over Lucifer’s moans. “And be quiet, or else I’ll stop.” His sub falls silent, and Michael grins as he struggles not to make any noise. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time. Next time, it’s back to the whip. I want you to behave for me. _Without_ the attitude.” A groan slips past Lucifer’s lips, and Michael stills his hand.

 

“Please don’t stop,” Lucifer begs.

 

“Then be quiet,” Michael warns as he starts stroking again. “The next time you make a noise, I’m gonna stop until you go soft again.” Knowing that it’ll drive Lucifer crazy, he twists his hand every time it gets to the head. “You can still talk, though,” he adds after a moment.

 

“Please!”

 

“No one said you couldn’t cum,” Michael reminds his lover. “Feel free if you can get there without moaning or groaning.” It’s a little unfair of him to make such a rule, as Lucifer is extremely vocal in bed, but he wants to tease his sub and he knows that Lucifer won’t be able to stay quiet once he starts getting close.

 

Lucifer starts squirming and thrusting into Michael’s hand, and Michael allows it good-naturedly. Then Lucifer gasps and he stops completely.

 

“That shouldn’t count,” Lucifer protests.

 

“Sorry, hon,” Michael says unapologetically. “It counts if I say it counts. But I’ll make you a deal. If you let me edge you five times, I’ll let you make as much noise as you want and you can cum at the end of it and then we’ll be done.”

 

Lucifer whimpers. He _hates_ edging. “Five?” He asks, a little daunted by the thought.

 

“Five,” Michael answers.

 

“Four?” Lucifer tries. “Master?”

 

Michael steps forward until they’re sharing the same air. “Who owns you?” He whispers.

 

“You do,” Lucifer replies instantly.

 

“Good boy. If you can’t take it, say something. Don’t try to bargain with me. If you say no, I’ll let you cum right now and I’ll take care of you and that’ll be that. But you are _mine,_ so don’t you _dare_ try to bargain with me.”

 

Lucifer hangs his head. “I’m sorry, Master.”

 

Michael cups his cheek. “Apology accepted. Now, what do you say?”

 

“I can take it,” Lucifer says proudly. “For you.”

 

Michael gives him a tiny kiss before speaking. “Are you sure? You know you can safeword out at any time, right?”

 

Bracing himself, Lucifer thrusts his hips forward. “I’m sure.”

 

The first three edges go without a hitch. Michael strokes him slowly and maddeningly, and Lucifer pants and groans and moans every time he pulls away. It isn’t until the fourth one that Lucifer starts to cry, and Michael pauses, much to Lucifer’s dismay.

 

“Please don’t stop,” Lucifer begs his Master.

 

“You’re almost done, Luka,” Michael says reassuringly. “It’ll be okay.”

 

Sniffling, Lucifer starts to squirm in his bonds. “Just get on with it,” he demands.

 

Michael studies him for a moment before asking, “What’s your color?”

 

For a moment, Lucifer doesn’t say anything. “Yellow,” he confesses after about thirty seconds.

 

Something shifts between them. Michael clucks his tongue and moves forward to undo his sub’s bonds. “You need to say something when you’re not okay,” he chastises gently. “How am I supposed to know that I need to take special care of you if you keep everything to yourself?”

 

“I don’t need special care,” Lucifer mumbles, rubbing his wrists as Michael kneels to take care of his ankle bonds.

 

Michael doesn’t say anything, just smiles softly and leads his lover to their bed. He pushes Lucifer down and lays down beside him, then starts stroking him hard and fast. “You can cum now,” he whispers, and just like that, Lucifer does, his release marked by a strangled scream.

 

“Mika,” Lucifer moans, hands automatically moving to take care of Michael’s hardness. Michael stills him with a hand around his wrists, pressing them back down against the bedspread and leaning in to steal a languid kiss from the other.

 

“Don’t worry about me,” Michael says. “Just tell me how you feel now.”

 

“Better,” Lucifer replies. “I’m sorry; I just...”

 

Michael rolls on top of his lover. “Don’t you _dare_ apologize to me,” he growls, face inches from Lucifer’s. “Never apologize for safewording. Besides, I was very harsh with you. It’s understandable.”

 

“It was fine until the end,” Lucifer replies, tucking a strand of Michael’s hair behind his ear. “It actually pretty was hot,” he confesses.

 

Michael grins. “Good. Now... Let’s get some salve on those marks.”

 

Shaking his head, Lucifer pulls Michael back down on top of himself. “Sleep first,” he implores.

 

Michael rolls his eyes fondly. “Sleep, Luce. I’ll watch over you.”

 

Smiling, Lucifer lets himself drift in a pleasant, restful haze, content in the knowledge that his lover is protecting him even in his dreams. “I love you,” he forces his sleep-heavy lips to say.

 

“I love you too,” Michael replies. “More than you’ll ever know.”


End file.
